Personal vs. Professional Intent

I have a long association with professional trainer and showman Bob Avila. Besides collaborating with me on many articles, along with a monthly newsletter and a book, Bob's also trained horses for me and been my show coach. He's given me many pieces of great advice over the past 20+ years, and the one that's come in handy most recently goes something like this:

"Ask yourself: Is my approach to my horse pursuits going to be personal, or professional? Where people get into trouble with their horses and goals is when they want their horses to serve their personal needs, but want them to satisfy financial needs as well. The sets of objectives don't mesh most of the time."

Those words came back to mind a couple weeks ago, when I had an opportunity to sell the 3-year-old gelding who's been my favorite horse ever since I bought him as a weanling. Although I often buy young horses as resale projects, adding fitting and training time with intent to make a profit, this one's been different from the get-go. He's been MY HORSE since Day One--the replacement for the great all-arounder who ranked as my "horse of a lifetime"--and he's never had a price on his head.

Not, that is, until temptation came along in the form of five juicy figures. The next thing I knew, a set of you'd-better-sell rationalizations took over my thinking. "You'd save all that money you pour into monthly training bills." "You wouldn't have to worry about where you're going to find the money to replace the roof on the house." "Someone else could take that horse out of the Idaho boondocks and turn him into a star." And then there was the ironclad axiom, learned at the knee of my horse-trader grandfather: "Never get married to any horse. You get one chance to sell with most of 'em, and you're a fool if you don't take it. There's always another one out there."

Those were some sound reasons for going ahead with a sale. Still, I agonized. Second-guessed myself. Woke up at night from bad dreams. Endured intrusive images of my horse being miserable with someone new. Wondered how I'd explain things to my husband if I turned down the money. Imagined dear ol' Grandpa turning over in his grave if I kept the horse.

In the end, I acted upon something else Bob Avila's told me:

"There's nothing wrong with making a horse decision that's personal, as long as you acknowledge that that's what you're doing and are willing to accept the consequences."

I backed out of the sale and kept the gelding--because he suits me perfectly, because I love him despite (or perhaps because of) his horsey quirks, because I have other horses that ARE for sale, because there are other ways to finance a new roof, and because...he's my PERSONAL horse. No apologies necessary for hanging onto my source of daily horse-joy.

Thanks, Bob. You bailed me out once again.